


Not Mine

by SirKris



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Relationship Problems, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2474291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKris/pseuds/SirKris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The short fic was inspired by a picture of Cumberbatch I saw on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know how it was going to end when I started but I think it turned out okay.

"Lipstick, really? It must be quite the occasion."

His voice rumbled through the silent room and she found herself shutting her eyes to enjoy the impossibly low timbre pass through the air. She turned around slowly to face him, leaning back slightly on the table.

"Are we back to this now?"

"You know what I mean."

Molly quirked up an eyebrow but Sherlock offered nothing. He sat at the corner of the room by her window, and the afternoon rays striking his uncharacteristic appearance. She took it slowly, from his glossy Oxford shoes to the dark navy pinstripe and up the slightly unbuttoned shit. Quite uncharacteristic.

"You cut your hair."

"Case."

Her eyes drifted to the change in question,taking note of how the curled edges had been tamed to layer smoothly to the side. It wasn't until she had to blink that she realized she was staring before. Molly turned back to face her jewelry box, trying to ignore his intense gaze through the mirror. It was remarkable she had not noticed him before he had spoken. Then again, she was long used to his unexpected visits.

"So what's wrong with it?" she asked, forcing an air of causality while examining the rings on her fingers.

"Not necessary."

The proximity of the voice made her glance up to see that he was walking towards her. Refusing to be caught off guard, she turned around to meet him with a tight-lipped smile.

"What, still too small?"

"Hardly."

Her smile faltered when he didn't stop, deciding only to stop when they were a little over a foot apart. She could feel every inch of the space between them, and despite herself could feel a stutter form in her next words.

"T-then I don't see the problem."

His knowing smirk proved to disarm her, and she could feel her neck by her reaction when she realized that was exactly what he wanted.

"It's far too distracting for the purpose of a dinner." he answered, eyes lingering far too long on her lips.

He was toying with her, that much was clear now. She had an idea as to why, but found herself wanting to play along, granted that she would win out in the end.

"Well I suppose it's a good thing—" she stepped forward, "that I'm not having dinner with you."

A playful smile rose up to her lips as she watched him blink rapidly, him mind working to catch up with how much closer they were now. They weren't quite touching, but the emanating from their bodies blended together to form the illusion of contact. She decided to take it further, and reach up to touch the side of his face.

His sharp intake of breath was encouraging, and she allowed her thumb to trace a path under his bowed lips. She knew she should stop. there was no way it would end well. But the power was intoxicating; so she prevailed.

What started out as a power play was quickly escalating into more as Molly felt herself getting pulled into the spell she had cast around them. She felt his hand on her back, sliding down slowly until it settled her lower back. A shiver coursed through her and he hand instinctively rested on his shoulder for support.

Sherlock leaned in closer and she found herself following in kind until clock begin him caught her eye. Finally, Molly let out a scoff. What was she doing?

"I'm going to be late."

She began to pull away when his hand snared up to keep it in place.

"Sherlock," she warned, meeting his now steely eyes with her own.

"Cancel it."

"I've already postponed the last two dates," she said, not quite looking at him.

"The lack of enthusiasm on your part should be telling enough."

Her eyes flew up to looks at him, and a retort began to form when his eyes gave her pause. They burned as intensely as before, but there now was an emotion she couldn't quite define lurking under it. Sherlock's next words, however, distracted her thoughts away from deliberating on it further.

"The sooner you end it with him the better off you will be. He's clearly not worth it."

"Are you're saying that you are?"

Molly cursed the sentiment that broke through her voice. They had danced along this question many times before; it was always the same. Suddenly she felt stupid for having endeavored this in the first place.

She tugged her hand out of his grip. The resistance she never met spoke volumes, and she felt her resolve return.

"Molly I'm-"

"I know. We've discussed this," she interrupted, clearing her throat to cover the strain. "I'm no longer yours Sherlock."

She strode past him, and she was acutely aware of the loss she felt when his hand fell away from her back. Her heels clipped the silence as she grabbed her purse on the way to the door. She paused once before leaving.

"And we both know you were never really mine."

The door slammed behind her words.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think?


End file.
